


Patronus

by femme4jack, Merfilly



Series: Patronus-Verse (Patronus, Fidelius, Outtakes and Related Stories) [1]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers (DotM), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Multi, Post-Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-07
Updated: 2011-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-21 03:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 66,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femme4jack/pseuds/femme4jack, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sentinel's cosmic rust gun destroyed the frame, memory core, and all the coding of the mech that was Ironhide, but left behind his spark and its casing.  Now, Ratchet and Prime are ready to bring a new mech online with that spark.  Who will he be, and what will that have to do with who he was?<br/>A continuation of <a href="http://femmefics.dreamwidth.org/28868.html"> Iron Hope</a> & <a href="http://femmefics.dreamwidth.org/29414.html">The Velveteen Robot</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Activation

**Author's Note:**

> This story will contain references to and "fade to black" tactile, field and spark-based intimacy between multiple mecha who are part of a cohort (a group of Cybertronians who share a bond based on a common purpose: sort of a combination of colleagues, family, lovers, friends). It also contains brief allusions to possible xenophilia (if you squint). All explicit episodes in this story are posted as separate outtakes. Finally, there are brief references to a maturation process for mecha and for non-mpreg creation methods other than the AllSpark. In this story, two of the reformats post DOTM are referred to as "younglings" and one as a "mechling". The terms are not equivalent to any stage of childhood in human beings, but rather the relative experience, ability to integrate data, and complexity of systems and upgrades sparks are capable of supporting. Every chapter contains warnings for chapter-specific content.

**Title** : Patronus 1: Activation  
 **Fandom** : Bayverse, DotM  
 **Author** : femme4jack & merfilly  
 **Characters** : Ironhide, Optimus Prime, Ratchet  
 **Rating** : PG  
 **WARNINGS** : Spoilers for DotM, mentions non-Allspark reproduction method (not mechpreg)  
 **Summary** : After constructing a new shell for the spark that was known as Ironhide, Ratchet and Prime are ready to bring him online  


 **Notes** : A continuation of [ Iron Hope](http://femmefics.dreamwidth.org/28868.html) & [The Velveteen Robot](http://femmefics.dreamwidth.org/29414.html). From femme: thanks to Merfilly for joining me on this endeavor!!! Also Ironhide's initial reboot is adapted from Red Alert's sparking in  Part 2 of Calming Fire by Femme4jack and Gatekat. It works too well not to recycle.

 _Systems initialized ... stand-by_

 _Core coding initialization ... Completed._

 _Running stability check. ... completed. Stabilized._

 _Running capacity check. ... completed. Capacity 98.582%_

 _Systems check ... Connecting ... Completed._

 _Analyzing Systems:  
Motor Function disabled.  
Sensor net and navigation disabled.  
Communications disabled.  
HUD online.  
Self repair online.  
Energon pump and lines at optimal functioning.  
Hydraulics online.  
Cooling systems online.  
Interface systems set to standard early functioning protocols  
Self-defense systems online and set to standard early functioning protocols._

 _Running Systems Check. Running ... Completed._

 _Analyzing function files....  
Affiliation: To be determined  
Designation: To be determined.  
Function: To be determined_

 _Initializing sensor net, navigation, motor function, and communications systems...please wait...Completed._

His first conscious thought was of needing to get up, to be somewhere. There was someone he needed to warn, to defend...

"Easy, mech," a voice said as his optics onlined for the first time and he attempted to sit. "Give yourself a few kliks to settle into your frame before you attempt to move. I need to run some scans. Welcome to functioning."

He automatically scanned the neon-green mech for a spark resonance signature, and his HUD supplied the designation and function, _Ratchet, Chief Medical Officer for the Autobots._ Coding strongly urged his compliance with the CMO's order.

Another mech was present, standing back, well out of the way, watching the proceedings. The HUD scrolled information indicating the potential threat status was relatively high, based on weapon energy traces and shielding capability, but all the military systems seemed to be in low power standby.

After a moment, the HUD supplied him with mech's designation: Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots and rightful ruler to all of Cybertron, if there had not been a war in progress. The taller mech remained silent, but his optics were following the new mech's every move.

The new mech's emotional protocols were clearly online, and very active in response to the spark resonance signatures of those in the room. Glyphs scrolled across his HUD to help him identify the range of feelings. 'Familiarity'. 'Comfort'. 'Well-being'. But also a strong sense of duty and a need to defend. It was...confusing. There was nothing in his function protocols instructing such emotions. The emotions were autonomic. He wondered if it was a coded reaction to such high ranking individuals.

"You are unusually silent for a newly functioning mech," the CMO commented, while transmitting a glyph instructing him to open a port for a deeper medical scan, which the new mech complied with immediately. "Your CPU has likely supplied you with my designation, and Optimus Prime's. Do you have one?"

The tone was relaxed, intended to provoke a sense of trust, his emotional protocols informed him. But there was something else underneath, in the mech's energy field, or even deeper, that contradicted it. It again elicited a strong urge to protect...and...to care for the mech...both mechs, who were distressed.

The larger mech, who had been so quiet, moved at last, coming closer but still out of Ratchet's way. He inspected the new mech with optics and deeper sensor scans, causing the new mech's armor to tingle in reaction.

"Your designation is important to us, new mech, that we may welcome you properly." The words came with complete neutrality, yet the undercurrent in the new mech's processor tried to identify the emotive index of 'grief' being present along with 'hope'. Optimus Prime felt both emotions, and yet he was attempting to block both of them from being present in his voice. It was as if he did not wish to influence any part of how the new mech responded.

The new mech regarded both of those who watched him so guardedly with curiosity and growing confusion. He examined a datafile on designations, explaining that many mechs came online with an immediate and strong association with a particular set of glyphs that would be their primary designation for as long as they desired it to be so, and that changes in primary designation were unusual, though not unheard of. Secondary designations were added to indicate ones cohort, to mark significant experiences, and to indicate the formation of bonds.

"I do not seem to have a designation," were the first words to emerge from his vocal processors. "Is there another means by which I may be assigned one?"

Prime inclined his head, trying desperately into not to read hope into that status, that it was not a function of the new genesis his old friend had experienced when his old spark-casing transferred to a blank frame-build. "You could wait, and determine if a designation comes later. Or you can allow one of us to temporarily grant you a designation."

Despite his words, the leader had to look at his medic with a brief burst of complete cluelessness on how to choose a name when this was clearly not Ironhide.

"I would prefer to be granted a temporary designation until one becomes clear, " the new mech stated resolutely, feeling a sense of rightness, both in his emotional protocols and within his chest...his spark, at the decision.

At the urging of the medic, who had now disconnected from his thoracic port, he sat up and scanned around himself with curiosity, though his attention continued to be drawn back to the two mechs even as his HUD supplied him with information regarding the atmosphere, solar radiation, and environmental contaminants that indicated they were on an organic world. It was a world on which they were aliens, yet his datafiles also designated it as 'home'.

"Is it normal for your verbal expressions to be so at odds with your emotional protocols?" he asked with a tone of genuine confusion and all the innocence of one newly created.

The question caught both Prime and Ratchet off their guard as each one had been trying to determine how best to grant this mech a designation that did not goad him toward a path he had not chosen.

Optimus Prime then favored the new mech with a quiet, patient look. "There have been many problems in recent planetary cycles, leading us each to carry heavy burdens. But you need not suffer that, when the addition of a new mech to the world at large is an occasion for joy."

None of his words were lies. They were all true. Yet they omitted so much, that pain choked deep within.

The new mech considered the words, as well as what had not been said, but was still felt, and considered how strongly he seemed to be able to sense what they felt but did not say. He knew, without their saying so, that they were uncomfortable choosing a designation for him. He also knew, clearly, he was not yet ready to pick a primary designation of his own, but the desire to shield them from the discomfort of the former was strong enough to offset the later.

"Assigning me a temporary designation is adding to the burdens you already carry," he conceded, a statement of fact and not judgment. He examined the glyphs associated with the myriad of emotions he felt in response to his first experiences, primarily those desiring to shield, guard and protect. "You may list my temporary designation as this," he transmitted a glyph to the mechs that seemed most in line with what he sensed in his spark.

The emotional reaction, carefully suppressed by both of the other mechs was immediate, and as obvious to the new mech as their spark signatures. Hope, relief, and joy were most apparent. They were pleased with his choice.

"That will be an interesting one to translate into the dominant language of the native sentients of this world," the medic stated wryly. "So many possibilities, though we need to take care that it does not inadvertently assign you to particular function in others' processors."

"Patronus," Optimus Prime suggested, transmitting the human cultural reference, a favorite one of his, along with the modifiers to the initial glyph that fit such a translation.

The glyph settled in among their unspoken communications, and the new mech noted that it felt as if he sat on the edge of a greater sea of ideas that was just out of reach, similar to the way the emotions were so clear and yet not his to parse.

"Ratchet will finish confirming your status, Patronus, and then you will have access to educational materials, to determine your specialization upgrades," Optimus Prime told him when he continued. "You were not designed with a specific function in mind, so please take your time in choosing how to proceed from this point."

"Is a lack of specific function the norm?" Patronus asked, noting that it was the second time that they had brought up the importance of his not yet having an assigned function.

"To be honest, Patronus," Ratchet explained, "it has been so long since we have welcomed a new mech into our midst, that there is nothing normal here. And you are unique, even among sparklings."

Ratchet looked toward Prime, and Patronus felt the buzz of hastily transmitted comms between the two, though he politely did not attempt to tune in.

::He will need to have some guidance, to understand why others are wary, Ratchet. I fully doubt our human allies and their families will fully be able to process that this is a new individual, even as basic as you designed the frame.:: One thing that was beginning to be promising, even with Prime beating back any hopes he dared have, were the colors starting to settle into place.

Colors, however, did not mean the same personality would emerge.

::I agree,:: Ratchet responded. ::Protecting him from undue influence does not mean keeping him in the dark. He is picking up on our emotionally complex responses very early in this. I'll not speculate on what that means. Now yet.::

"Unique?" Patronus asked, politely encouraging them to continue when the buzz of the comm signal had ended.

"Most of the Cybertronians you will meet were sparked by the Allspark," Optimus began, settling his large frame to sit on the berth across from Patronus's. "Whether their frames were full sized and already coded for a function, or were simple sparkling shells, they were brought by the creators to the Allspark Temple. One of my functions was to call new sparks from the Allspark. If you examine your historical data files, you will find that the Allspark was destroyed as part of our war, after having been missing for countless vorns."

"Which," Ratchet continued, "meant reverting to what is considered a more primitive, by some, method of procreation. Budding is one term used, but it is merely a means of causing the creative sparks to expand and create a secondary source, that is then coded, either by the creators involved through a mixing of their own code, or by the delivery of a code packet from an outside source," he told Patronus. "This method means our race will survive, as it could not have without the Allspark."

"You, however, are a cypher to those outside, due to unique circumstances around your creation," Optimus said gravely. "You will remind others of a mech who fell in battle, as you are quite similar to him.">

He paused, trying to determine how to phrase that Patronus's spark was from the fallen mech, and yet not outright say he was the fallen friend they had all lost.

"Your spark is not a newly created one, Patronus," Optimus continued, leaning earnestly forward toward the new mech. "The mech that your spark animated was hit by a weapon that destroyed his frame and processors, but left the spark and its casing intact and in stasis. You have the same spark as our fallen comrade, but you are not the same person. Who we are is a complex interaction of our sparks, coding, memories and choices. You are a new creation, despite being a spark who is older than either Ratchet or myself. You deserve the opportunity to decide who you wish to be, apart from whom Ironhide was, as tempting as it may be for all who grieve his death to wish you to be just as he was."

Patronus evaluated those words; the glyphs that came to his own processor related to 'justice', 'fairness', and 'chance' were influencing both of the mechs in this chamber with him. He did not wish to upset either one, and if they said this was how he should be, a blank data chip in some ways, then he would endeavor to live up to their wishes. It felt right, in accordance with his emotive responses, to try and please them.

"I will take the time you wish me to, and evaluate all options." He then looked at each one in slow, steady consideration before looking nowhere but Optimus Prime. "But my place, I know deep within me, is here and nowhere else."

Patronus watched as Optimus Prime's faceplates physically reacted to his words, and found that the relief and joy his declaration elicited in the larger mech were pleasurable to his spark. The flame-patterned mech stood and crossed the distance between the two berths. Patronus, stood as well, looking up at the blue optics of his Prime. As Optimus placed his hands on Patronus's shoulders and leaned down to touch his helm to the new mech's own, the black mech's data files informed him that such a greeting was the ritual welcome and blessing of the Prime to a new creation. Yet, it was also something much more than a ritual. He could feel his spark surging in response to the rightness of the contact.

"Patronus," the flame-patterned mech stated, "I welcome you home. Ratchet and I are both here to support you in any manner possible as you adjust to functioning."

Patronus felt a deep reluctance for the physical contact to end and resisted the urge to follow as Prime pulled away and took a step back, though still close enough for the black mech to feel the comfortable sensation of the other's field.

"Do you have any questions for us?" Ratchet asked, placing a hand on his shoulder in a gesture that once again, felt completely comfortable and right to the black mech.

"None that I have enough reference framing to ask," Patronus told them. "I will once I begin to work, I am certain."

Prime kept his faceplates from forming the smile they wished to; of course there would be questions, for some of Ironhide was definitely still within this mech. He resisted the desire to reach out across the cohort bond he now was certain still existed in some form. He would wait, in hope, that Patronus would reach out to him if he desired to do so.


	2. Coping...or not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the humans meet and interact with the new mech, they find him strangely familiar and entirely different from the one who had been lost.

**Title** : Patronus 2: Coping...or not  
 **Fandom** : Bayverse, DotM

 **Author** : femme4jack & Merfilly  
 **Characters** : Ironhide (Patronus), Sideswipe, Will Lennox, Robert Epps  
 **Rating** : R (M)  
 **WARNINGS** : Spoilers for DotM, graphic depictions of Chicago clean-up, including corpses of children at an elementary school, graphic nightmare which includes violent death of a child, cussing.  
 **Summary** : As the humans meet and interact with the new mech, they find him strangely familiar and entirely different from the one who had been lost.  
 **Notes** : A continuation of [ Iron Hope](http://femmefics.dreamwidth.org/28868.html) & [The Velveteen Robot](http://femmefics.dreamwidth.org/29414.html)  


Reminder, the book ending in which Megatron sues for peace and is allowed to leave with the remaining Decepticons in order to attempt to rebuild Cybertron is the canon ending for this.

 _US Army Reserve Training Center, Midway Airport, Chicago, IL_

William Lennox, fresh from his latest post-apocalyptic promotion from Lieutenant Colonel to full Colonel, collapsed into his desk chair in the designated human portion of the large hanger that was NEST's temporary Chicago-area home. Optimus Prime had insisted on their taking part in the clean-up and rebuilding of the devastated city that had lost, at last estimate, fully three-quarters of the population that had been working or living in the downtown area at the time of the Decepticon invasion.

Lennox was a hands-on kind of commander, taking his cues from Optimus himself when it came to leading from the front. This included getting his hands dirty in the gut-wrenching task removing debris and remains, with far too much of the later. Nothing he had seen - in Iraq or Afghanistan, Mission City or Egypt could have prepared him for what he was seeing daily as they cleaned up Chicago so it could be rebuilt.

That his ladies were temporarily living in an apartment at the Army Reserve Training Center at Midway Airport gave him no small amount of comfort. While Megatron had made good on his promise to gather the remaining Decepticons and leave, there were no guarantees that all had followed him, and Lennox still woke up nearly every night covered in sweat from nightmares of revenge being taken on Sarah and Annabelle, their bodies dissolving into piles of rust-colored dust leaving nothing behind for him to hold on to. Prime had agreed that the safest place for any of their human allies and their family members was as close to them as possible. Reprisals were likely, and family members were easy targets for lone mechs. That Lennox emotionally needed his family close had certainly entered into Prime's decision as well, though it would never be stated aloud.

Lennox was still reeling from his day of clearing the site of an elementary school near the loop, and had at least an hour of paperwork to do before he could call it quits. He leaned back at his desk and closed his eyes for a moment to regroup, only to find his mind filled with the image of the nondescript black mech who had joined his team that day to do the heavy lifting. He was an unusually quiet mech who had introduced himself politely as Patronus. As there had been no new arrivals (though transmissions indicated this would change soon), Will had known immediately that the mech could only be one of three whose sparks had remained functioning in their casings after their frames were destroyed by Sentinel's rust gun. Four, if one counted Sentinel himself, but Will knew that the ethical debate regarding a second chance for that spark could take longer than his own lifetime.

Will had known, without being told, which of the three sparks Patronus was. The coloring that had settled into the frame, a function of the mech's chromonanites, was sign enough. But Will knew on an instinctive level as well. He was well aware that he was supposed to treat this mech as he would a new person, without preconceived notions and expectations. That didn't mean it would be easy, especially with the manner in which the black mech had already taken such interest in Will's well-being.

* * *

After they had collected most of the obvious remains from the playground, including those that were simply empty sets of clothing that would be tested for DNA back on base, they had begun the more grueling dig-out of the collapsed three story building. Patronus had been silently working with them all morning, carefully lifting large chunks of concrete and entire sections of wall and roof out of the way at Ogden Elementary School. During the initial weeks after the failed invasion, the Autobtos had been able to scan sites like this one for survivors, and their efforts had focussed on those locations where there were life signs. But that was three weeks ago. Now, all of the efforts were recovery, not rescue, and each set of ruins seemed more gruesome than the last.

Even his thick mask couldn't hide the stench, and after pulling out the remains of a blond child of similar age and build to Annabelle from the crushed gymnasium whose roof Patronus had removed, Will silently walked around the side of the demolished school, ripped off his mask, and began to retch.

A large shadow covered him as he emptied his stomach of the coffee he had gulped down earlier. Without a word, the black mech knelt beside him and handed him cool, stainless steel container of water he had stored somewhere. Will took it gratefully, rinsing out his mouth and spitting before drinking the rest.

"The data files on our human allies state you are the sire of a child of similar age to many we are unearthing today," the mech said quietly in a voice that was not at all familiar in terms of timbre, and yet, had a quality strangely similar to Ironhide's.

"Yes," Will answered quietly, "her name is Annabelle." _You kept her safe,_ he wanted to say. "Thanks," he added, holding up the water.

"Your blood sugar is low, Colonel Lennox," Patronus said, in a tone gentler than what Will recalled. "Though you are at risk of purging again due to the nature of our work today, you will work at greater efficiency and be more emotionally resilient if you have something other than simply a caffeinated beverage in your system."

Will realized he was gaping, and quickly shut his mouth, shaking his head. "Yeah...umm...thanks," he managed to stammer out, pulling an energy bar out of his pack, ripping it open, and taking a bite.

"Does my presence make you uncomfortable, Colonel? I can request to work with a different team tomorrow," Patronus stated earnestly, now sounding as different from Ironhide as he had previously sounded similar. "I am aware that you were close with the mech whose spark I share."

"No!" Will snapped far too quickly. "No. I'm...confused about how all of this works, despite the explanations. But I'm not uncomfortable with you," _I just don't want to fuck up,_ he added silently to himself, recalling Prime and Ratchet's words about the need to accept the recreated mechs as the new people they were.

"Colonel Lennox," Patronus said far too gently, "your vital signs all indicate that you _are_ uncomfortable. I know it is important to my superiors that I be seen as a new person. Let me assure you, however, that you will not offend or harm me with your confusion regarding my identity. It is to be expected."

Will managed to smile, his confusion worse now than ever, but tempered with a building affection for the mech, who seemed so _young_ and _earnest_. He tried desperately not to think of him as Ironhide might have been long before the war began, before Optimus Prime or Ratchet had even been created.

"Alright, big guy, I'll keep that in mind," he nodded and made his way back to the ruins, before turning his head to look again at the mech whose optics were regarding him keenly. "And Patronus, thanks. I mean it. And not just for the water."

"Of course, Colonel Lennox. You are welcome," the mech replied, standing and making his way back to the next section of heavy lifting.

* * *

Bobby swore he had only stuck around because the city had gone to hell in a handbasket. He was not sticking it out because anyone in the government had asked. He sure as hell wasn't sticking it out to look for a new fight with any rogue 'Cons, or Megatron when he shook off whatever had possessed him.

He was just doing his Citizen's Duty, putting this place as back to rights as he could. Never mind that it meant keeping an eye on his old friends like Prime and 'Bee and Will. That had not had a thing to do with his decision, or so he swore to anyone who listened.

Meeting Patronus, though, actually made him shut those protests up. There was just something odd, almost like the voodoo Figueroa had talked about back in the day, to seeing the quiet mech up and walking around and being helpfully polite. Knowing it was Ironhide twisted something deep inside of Will, Bobby knew, and made him that much more relieved he had gotten away from things before he really found that one sweet ride and friend like Sam and Will both had.

Of course, maybe it had been seeing Patronus with Sideswipe that had actually made Bobby really worry for Will. It just wasn't every day that someone had to try that hard to pretend like he wasn't damned uncomfortable when Sideswipe had actually managed to provoke Patronus to argue over a point of how to do something the best way.

* * *

"The building is structurally unsound," Patronus told his companion, using English out of courtesy to the humans around them, so they would know not to enter.

"Of course it is, that's why we're here," Sideswipe said with all the patience of a three year old human.

"One does not simply walk directly into an unsound building," Patronus pointed out, trying to fathom why Sideswipe would take that course of action as best.

"Look, who's senior here? Me. So back off and trust my judgment for a change!"

"I would if you were making any sense, Sideswipe." Patronus's words were just faintly edged, as if the mech was struggling to keep a temper in check that had not, to date, truly reflected the rough edges they'd once expected of Ironhide.

Bobby had heard the voices rise, and looked, which let him see the flicker in Sideswipe's optics, the slight hitch of both doors, and a very slight sway back of the whole frame. Bobby, like the others, had been cautioned by Prime to give this new mech as much room as possible to develop into himself, and yet that argument was close to a pale echo of the usual go-rounds between Sideswipe and Ironhide. Sideswipe was at least trying to recover from the familiar ground, and did so in a surprising fashion.

He started to explain himself, slowly and patiently, like Sideswipe never really was.

* * *

If Sarah and Annabelle had been back at home, Will would not have taken a day off, much less a weekend. There was simply too much to be done, and the backbreaking work of clearing out the wreckage to make room for a new city did a lot to keep his mind off of stuff he'd rather not remember. He'd suffered his share of post traumatic symptoms over the years. What combat veteran didn't? You either found ways to cope...or you didn't. But the chain of events stretching from Shockwave's appearance at Chernobyl to the longest hour of his entire life in Chicago, not to mention everything that had happened since, had done a number on him. So he threw himself into his work, confident that Sarah and Annabelle were as safe as they could be without being stuck longterm in Ironhide's bunker, and he knew better than to ask that of his wife and their extremely active daughter.

Sarah was keeping Annabelle sheltered from the worst of the devastation. Neither of them were ready for their little girl to face what remained of downtown Chicago, but there were plenty of other tasks for them to be involved in. Sarah was volunteering at the children's program at a long-term shelter that had been set up in a complex of hotels near Midway Airport, and Annabelle spent her days playing and in classes with those same kids. Will knew that the airport and its vicinity, which had become the Chicago Area Recovery and Rebuild (CARR) staging area along with NEST's temporary base, was the safest area for his family to be. Between the energon detectors, NEST soldiers, and the Autobots, nothing was going to get into the primary refugee site. The Autobots were taking the wellbeing of Chicago's survivors very personally.

When Sarah had asked for him to take a weekend of leave, he had hesitated. He knew she wanted to get away from the city, at least for a day, to give Annabelle a place to stretch out and run that wasn't filled with the sounds and scents of a city that had to finish being destroyed before it could be rebuilt. Sarah was a country girl, and city-living, especially in a tiny apartment on an Army Reserve Training Center at Midway, was not good for his wife's mental health. There was nothing more important to him than his ladies, even though slowing down meant dealing with his thoughts and memories. Which was another reason why Sarah was likely pushing for it so hard. She knew all too well that he wasn't 'dealing with it,' whatever 'it' was. So, after two months of almost continuous work, he finally consented to a weekend at a cabin in Starved Rock State Park.

He should not have been surprised that Optimus Prime had insisted on a guardian. His objections that no Autobot could really be spared from the effort were met with the usual patient look of a being for whom a human lifetime was but a flicker of existence, and the bemused statement that the city and tasks at hand would still likely be there when he got back.

It _really_ shouldn't have surprised him that Patronus informed him in his quiet manner that he had volunteered for the duty. The new mech had been on Will's team more often than not, usually with Sideswipe, who, amazingly, had been assigned the duty of being mentor to the new mech. Patronus did not hover, but it was more than obvious that he was watching over Lennox. Will still didn't understand what it meant, and refused to allow himself to be hopeful that it was anything other than the new mech's curiosity about his spark's former ties. Ironhide had been - well, saying he had been a friend was far too simple a term. Brother-in-arms, mentor, protector, kindred-spirit in a massive, powerful form, part of his family -- none of the descriptions seemed to cover it. But Patronus? Will didn't even know Patronus, despite working with him on a nearly daily basis. The mech was eerily quiet, and seemed to be avoiding interactions that caused Will obvious confusion. But he was always there.

No, Patronus volunteering didn't surprise him in the least. What did surprise him was the growling, clipped and hissing sounds of a native-language argument between Sideswipe and Patronus at one end of the hanger as Will prepared to collect his ladies for their weekend. To say Patronus was fuming was an understatement. He looked ready to rip his mentor apart, but before the argument escalated, the black mech stalked out, heading toward a pile of twisted steel construction beams and rebar piled in an empty, overgrown parking lot next to the hanger. Will watched from the distance as Patronus picked up a beam and hurled it across the lot, and couldn't help thinking that if the mech had been armed, the pile of scrap would have been slagged.

He glanced to see the silver Corvette standing next to him, watching as Optimus Prime drove up, transformed, and spoke quietly to the black mech. Patronus visibly deflated and bowed his head.

"What was that all about?" Will asked, not sure he really wanted to know, but too morbidly curious not to ask.

"Glitch wasn't processing right," Sideswipe offered in a rough voice, but there was just a hint of feeling sorry for the black mech. He turned an optic down at Will, sensing he wanted the whole story. "Guardian code is intact. He's not trained though. Doesn't have the weapons or practice, and Primus am I looking forward to getting to drill maneuvers into his aft!" Sideswipe growled.

 _And if he came along, Sideswipe would have to as well. Prime can spare one, but not two right now,_ Will realized with dawning understanding. "Looking forward to some payback? Drilling, that is?" he asked, unable to keep the half grin off his face at the thought of Sideswipe training his former instructor...or at least the spark who used to be. Ironhide had been a relentless taskmaster, to mech and human alike.

Sideswipe looked over toward the black mech, and his doors twitched just a little in agitation. "Won't be near the same, will it?"

Will looked up at the frontliner for a long moment, then shrugged. "At some point, no matter the species, the next generation gets to step up. It's always different. But different ain't bad."

Sideswipe huffed air through his intakes, not really wanting to answer that. "You'll have a guardian for your trip," he said, getting ready to move off, pushing the matter of Patronus away, so he didn't have to cope with the underlying emotional upheaval. He just didn't want to dwell on someone who meant _something_ to him getting this second chance, when his own brother had paid a larger price, and been condemned to half an existence.

Will gave Sideswipe a questioning look as he transformed and drove away, suddenly more than ready to get away from the emotionally heavy atmosphere and gain a bit of normalcy with his girls. At least as normal as anything could be. He went back into the hanger to grab his bag even as the red Ferrari pulled up beside him, the drivers side door opening in silent invitation.


	3. Mentor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sideswipe is assigned a new function he never imagined himself having.

**Title** : Patronus 3 - Mentor  
 **Fandom** : Bayverse, DotM  
 **Authors** : femme4jack & Merfilly  
 **Characters** : Ironhide (Patronus), Sideswipe, Optimus Prime, Jolt, Ratchet  
 **Rating** : PG-13  
 **WARNINGS** : DotM Spoilers, mild violence  
 **Summary** : Sideswipe is assigned a new function he never imagined himself having.  
 **Notes** : This chapter will bounce around time in a non-sequential manner.  


The verb 'to teek' is borrowed from the amazing Dwimordene ([ All That You Can't Leave Behind ch. 4](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3896514/4/All_That_You_Cant_Leave_Behind)) and is a made up English word to describe the Cybertronian 5th sense of electro magnetic fields.

For this story, we are going with DotM novelization canon that Skids and Mudflap sacrificed themselves to prevent Sentinel from killing the other mechs, allowing them time to escape. In our fix-it, their sparks and spark casings, like Ironhide's, were left intact by the rust gun and able to be placed into new mechs. Also, Dino, in our headcanon, is _not_ Mirage, and did survive Chicago (unlike Mirage in the novelization).

* * *

  
**Patronus 3: Mentor**   


  


* * *

Sideswipe mulled over the implications of his conversation with Patronus, growing more sullen and disjointed as he did so. Why had Prime done this to him? Hadn't he already been through enough serving his Prime, without having to take on the mentoring of a young mech, one who was far more than just a new recruit?

Patronus should have had enough logic to see the flaw in his wishes instead of forcing the confrontation. Even Sideswipe, reckless as he could be, could see that much.

"Sideswipe!" Patronus had growled, storming up to his mentor, angrier than the new mech had appeared since onlining. "Why has _Dino_ been assigned to guard Colonel Lennox and his cohort. Why is my guardian bond being interfered with?"

Sideswipe had flicked his doors in irritation that the mech even had to ask, before answering, "Firstly, you have not been assigned to Lennox, despite your constant surveillance. Second: what are you going to do if danger actually strikes?"

"Put myself between them and danger!" Patronus had growled. "I've accessed the modules on guardianships. I know what these bonds mean, mentor! Do you think they are any less real for having first belonged to Ironhide? Or do you all not truly wish to allow me make my own choices regarding my function?" The young mech was seething with barely contained rage, ready to strike out against any who would threaten his charges, including those who would interfere with his spark-deep duty.

Sideswipe could see the fight boiling in Patronus's optics, but he knew his own armor was slag if they came to blows. Prime had met his limit on in-ranks violence in the aftermath of Chicago, and if there was one thing he did not want, it was Prime raking him over a slagging pit for being in a fight with this mech he was supposed to be training up.

"Patronus, you've got neither weapons nor more than the basic defensive initiatives in your coding! Would you really risk them to a rogue Seeker strafing them from the air?" Sideswipe snarled in attempt to cut the argument off with logic.

Sideswipe teeked Patronus's field, coiled tight with frustration and anger that had been building for weeks. He watched as Patronus's optics suddenly focused on the human on the other side of the hanger, before the mech let loose a string of curses that would have made Ironhide proud as he stalked out of the hanger to let out his anger on a pile of human scrap metal.

Sideswipe had watched him go, and hated the roiling emotions it caused him. Slag it to the Pits and back again, but Sideswipe didn't _want_ to care, and wanted to hate Prime for putting him in a position where he had to.

* * *

 _Two Months Earlier_

It was only a day after Patronus had onlined that Optimus Prime had called Sideswipe to his temporary office. The mech examined his recent actions to predict what he was likely to be reprimanded for, and came up blank, but entered the room with a sense of dread nonetheless.

Optimus Prime was ready for him, no work in front of him, which meant Sideswipe was his sole focus at the moment. "Thank you for coming, Sideswipe. I have an assignment for you."

Sideswipe felt a sweet swell of hope that a group of rogue 'cons who had refused to leave with Megatron had been located. Demolition duty with a bunch of squishies was not giving him much of an outlet. "Just tell me where they are, sir, and I'll bring them back to Ratchet as spare parts," he boasted, suddenly feeling better than he had in weeks.

"Sideswipe," Prime said in a tone of slight disappointment. "Not all of the tasks I will have for you involve destruction and mayhem." Prime did favor him with a softly amused, affectionate look though. "No, I need you to be a mentor to another mech."

Sideswipe cycled his optics, and then did so a second time, feeling his processor stutter at the implications of what Prime had said. Sure, he had overseen some of Skids and Mudflap's training, and there had been others he'd trained before them. But to be a mentor? For one of the newly reformatted twins? Training them to fight as a team, to fight as _twins_ , had been painful enough. Wasn't it a difficult enough reminder of Sunstreaker's sacrifice knowing that the only other split spark twins in recent history had sacrificed themselves in the line of duty as well? And now Optimus wanted him to mentor one of them, when Sunstreaker had not had the benefit of a second chance at functioning!

"Mentor?" he managed to say in a static-laden voice.

Optimus wondered briefly if he was laying too much on Sideswipe's shoulders, but he was convinced Sideswipe needed to start learning now that a life of violence was at an end, if Prime and his brother managed to actually keep their factions separated and at peace.

"Yes, mentoring. Because you are a warrior, and the mech in question was a military build prior to his reformat," Optimus said gravely.

Sideswipe froze, realization dawning. "I thought the idea was not to limit him to his former function, sir," he said quietly, feeling inwardly like someone had hit his spark casing directly with an electro-whip.

"We do not wish to limit him, or anyone, now that there is a chance of rebuilding our lives, Sideswipe." Optimus cycled air through his intakes, then let it out in a distinctly human-borrowed sigh. "There is too much possibility that his being a warrior, a protector, is so deeply ingrained that no amount of generalizing the code can keep it from developing." Privately, Optimus thought if Patronus was less warlike, then maybe it would tone Sideswipe down too.

Sideswipe's final active memory files of Ironhide came to the forefront of his processors without conscious effort. His admiration could not have been greater for the mech who had retrained him to fight as a member of a cadre, without his twin, after too many vorns of solitary functioning. For so long, he had only been comfortable fighting solo. Their final shared confrontation with the Dreads had been exhilarating, a culmination of countless hours of drilling. And then...right before his optics, the mech who might as well have been his own mentor had been so cruelly 'relieved of duty' by a Prime he had once guarded faithfully...

"I'll do my best, sir," he found himself answering with a silent prayer to a deity he rarely acknowledged that his best would be enough, and would be worthy of the spark being placed in his care.

Optimus inclined his head, voice going softer. "I have faith in you for this, Sideswipe. Go talk to Ratchet about his specifications and protocols."

* * *

Sideswipe met Patronus for the first time later that same day. The new mech was in the small hanger Ratchet had appropriated for the repairs and upgrades he oversaw, the same hanger where the CMO had built the new frames for the sparks who had been known as Ironhide, Skids and Mudflap. The extinguished of the battle for Chicago had been salvaged and were now neatly organized in various piles and containers throughout the hanger. It wasn't their way to let anything go to waste, and Patronus's large black frame, appropriately sized to the mature strength of his spark, was a testament to that.

The black mech was sitting at a terminal, connected by cable to download data modules at the highest possible speed. Whether budded, immature sparklings or adult new creations, new mechs were notoriously hungry to learn, but their processors and kinetic memory needed time and practice to integrate the downloads. Ratchet, after giving Sideswipe a basic overview of Patronus's coding and frame, had told him that new mech had been pushing those limits from practically the moment he onlined, and was going to be needing processor upgrades sooner rather than later. It was, however, time for the mech to start spending time with a mentor, integrating his downloads, and meeting those whom he would be interacting with on a regular basis, both Cybertronian and human.

Sideswipe automatically scanned Patronus's spark signature. It was, as was expected, identical to Ironhide's. He swiftly added a line of code to prevent himself from referring to the new mech as his former teacher and partitioned his files so his data on Patronus did not go into his files on Ironhide. He felt Patronus scan his own signature even as the black mech disconnected from the terminal and turned toward him, standing and transmitting a greeting-glyph. Sideswipe transmitted a greeting of his own, for the first time ever using the glyph of a mentor greeting his charge, forcing himself to stride purposefully and confidently toward the new mech, to brush Patronus's field to sense how differently it teeked. Ironhide's had been a mixture of barely contained violence, irritability, humor, or playfulness depending on what was occuring, all tempered by a fierce gentleness due to his spark-deep guardian function. The gentleness had clearly remained, along with its protective quality. But the ferocity was nowhere to be found. Not yet.

"Your spark...it scans differently from the others," Patronus said in a quiet voice that was nothing like Ironhide's.

Sideswipe nodded; he had expected that reaction. Newcomers did it to him in varying degrees, had done so all his existence. However, if he was to mentor, he needed to explain it so it was not a distraction.

"Spark twin," he rumbled aloud, processor rife with Sunstreaker-laced memories. His twin, his brother, his other self in some ways, was never gone from him because of a long-ago trap they had laid that had cost Sunstreaker his freedom. Much as he would have done the same for his Prime, Sideswipe resented that it had been Sunstreaker who beat him to the punch on who would stay to lure their quarry in. He was certain Sunstreaker had thought he would escape, but when they had returned, Sunstreaker had been beyond repair. In desperation, Sideswipe had spark-merged, hoping to sustain his brother, only to watch the frame dull and gray out...with his brother's consciousness held inside him, their sparks now fused.

He watched as Patronus's optics went slightly vacant. The young mech was likely accessing recently downloaded datafiles on the shared history of the various cohorts that made up their faction.

"Your twin's spark survived the failure of his frame and core, but in a far different manner from my own," the black mech said quietly, hungry to understand, and with the trait he held in common with sparklings of asking about _everything_. "Does he retain any of his memories or a sense of who he was before?"

Sideswipe nodded. "He is...within me, complete, as we shared data-files, but he's trapped, too, because this is my frame, not his." How much did he hate that Sunstreaker only came to the fore on command or severe emotional trauma? All other times, his brother was barely a ghost's whisper inside his spark. "Now that you know enough about my differences, it's time for us to set some idea of how to proceed with your training." There, he thought; that should push them to a new conversation and he hadn't even yelled or punched anything.

Patronus perked up at the mention of training. "I have downloaded as many files as I was capable of processing, but I believe I have reached a point of overload that requires more physical integration than I can manage alone." His complete enthusiasm for training made Sideswipe ignore all the raunchy comebacks for that particular phrasing.

"Why don't you databurst me the modules you tackled, so I can see where we should start?" Sideswipe said instead.

Patronus did so, far more efficiently than a sparkling would have been able. Most of the modules were historical, relating to the war and especially the most recent vorn of events. Cultural and linguistic modules were clearly high priorities as well. The mech was already showing obvious curiosity about Ironhide's place in the historical events that had led to their current situation, as well as as much information as his processors could manage regarding Ironhide's cohort: Optimus Prime and Ratchet in particular. Field repair, organic safety protocols, human first aid, and basic engineering skills had been downloaded that would be useful for the Chicago clean-up. Absent completely was any obvious interest in weapons systems or fighting techniques beyond the basic defensive modules that every newly onlined mech downloaded.

Sideswipe was both impressed and curious how this would all turn out in the end, but being weaponless as long as possible seemed like a very good idea on how to be certain Patronus chose his own path. Maybe, just maybe, Sideswipe was going to pull this off as he had promised.

It was kind of curious, though, to see Patronus having so little interest in weapons. Maybe the new mech was weaker than his predecessor. Sideswipe kept his contempt contained, and pushed at the reason why that reluctance might be there. Perhaps Patronus was spark-weary of war; Ironhide had seen action before the actual war, quelling small protests on Cybertron that had eventually made the world ripe for Megatron's insurrection.

Whatever the reason, Sideswipe would eventually have to insist, but for now, Sideswipe had a promise to Prime to make good on, and that meant indulging the mechling in his development.

* * *

  


 _Diego Garcia, July 2009_

"Sideswipe! Jolt!" Ironhide called from across the hanger in a tone that brooked no argument. "Get your afts over here and follow me." Ironhide didn't even wait to see if the two mechs were coming as he made his way to the sparring grounds on the tropical atoll where they currently were operating.

Once they reached the pounded flat clearing, Ironhide turned to face them, his rarely-used close combat blade extending from one arm. He tended to prefer his fists sheering through armor when up close. "Disarm me! As a team! Go!"

Sideswipe gave the smaller, electric blue mech a scathing look. "I fight solo. I'll take you on myself, old mech."

"That's that problem," Ironhide grumbled, bringing his arms up in a defensive posture. "Gonna get yourself extinguished, or someone else. Now disarm me!"

"Did fine in Beijing," Sideswipe muttered even as he extended his blades and began fluidly circling around the weapons specialist on his wheeled pedes. Jolt, silent as ever, activated his electro-whips and moved in tandem.

"Against a single foe who was fleeing, not fighting," Ironhide growled out in a tone that might have been mocking. "You learn to fight with us as a team, or you don't fight. I won't have you putting the rest of Prime's warriors at risk."

"Prime's the only one I have a duty to," Sideswipe growled back. "He's fine with me!" He rushed in, heedless of where Jolt was, clearly confident that he could take at least that one blade out of commission.

For a warrior designed for distance fighting and disabling large numbers of combatants with heavy rounds, Ironhide was far more agile and swift than one would expect. He ducked and twisted, his own blade grazing the attacking frontliner's thigh even as he lunged toward Jolt for a full-on assault.

Sideswipe snarled at the scratch, as he deemed it, and pushed off on the pad of his other pede, thrusting forward with an intent to disable, only to find Jolt in the way as he tried to avoid Ironhide. Jolt was forced to back-pedal fast, even as Sideswipe pushed anyway, seeing what he thought was an opening at the control box for the lone blade.

Ironhide whipped himself around, the control box now protected by his attack position, and he made two quick moves with the sword, even as he threw his weight back. When he stopped moving, Jolt could not easily reach him, and Sideswipe's leading arm was failing to respond to commands, victim of a precision blow against his pressure sensors.

"Sideswipe, to his left!" Jolt called out as he moved into strike position, his electro-whip snapping in order to send a numbing charge up the left side of Ironhide's frame while simultaneously aiming a low level blast to Ironhide's sword arm. However, the blue mech wasn't fast enough for the deceptively bulky weapons master, who evaded both even as he launched himself through the air at his attacker.

Sideswipe launched himself after, determined to relieve Ironhide of a weapon while his back was turned. But even as he brought his blade up to strike, Ironhide was whirling around, hurling the smaller blue mech directly at him.

Sideswipe had to curse at that maneuver, trying to dodge, and while he was partially successful, Jolt impacted enough to knock him completely off balance. It left him vulnerable to the swift punch Ironhide threw on landing, knocking Sideswipe sideways and very nearly sprawling on the wide clearing.

::We're not going to beat him unless we work in concert!:: Jolt sent to Sideswipe, part plea, part demand.

With Sunstreaker, fighting as a team had been as natural and instinctive as the twin bond itself. They _knew_ what the other would do, and everything in their sparks and coding worked in exquisite harmony with the other. In close combat they were two halves of a whole, unstoppable at close range.

Sideswipe had been crippled by the loss of his other half, even with his brother's shadow-existence within himself. He'd had to learn to fight on his own, and he'd excelled at doing so. His style was wild and dangerous, and as long as he was not having to concern himself with the collateral damage of a teammate, he could rip apart his opponent with aggressive abandon.

Even as Ironhide fired spar-level concussive blasts at them, the silver mech realized his processors and frame simply did not know how to function in tandem with someone who was not his brother.

Sideswipe managed to dive away of the blast, but Jolt was down. In a real fight, he would have been completely disabled or offlined by the close range blast, and his sparring protocols forced the blue mech to remain down. The silver frontlinter tried to ignore the relief in his spark of no longer needing to worry about a teammate, and launched himself at Ironhide in full berserker rage.

Ironhide just gave a deep, satisfied smile, one that boded poorly for the silver mech. With Jolt down, but still on the edge of Ironhide's awareness, the focus would be on taking Sideswipe down swiftly and with as much emphasis on humiliation as the weapons specialist deemed necessary. One way or another, the dangerous mech was going to learn to reintegrate into a unit, or else 'Hide would strip him all the way to basics and start over with his combat training.

Ironhide wondered, with a half whimsical thought, if he could get Ratchet to agree to that, and if they could keep Prime from finding out. Then he just let Sideswipe come in close, expecting to meet his blade. When Sideswipe could not possibly feint or change direction, Ironhide snapped his cannon up, putting its muzzle in Sidewipe's face.

"Yield!" Ironhide barked in command.

Sideswipe glared and growled defiantly, but sheathed his working blade. His systems were hot with rage: at Jolt for being in his way early in the fight when he stood a chance, at Ironhide for humiliating him, but most of all at himself. He was better than this. He had been on his own for too long, and his combat protocols were fragged, more fit for an arena than a battlefield.

"Until I say so, your aft is mine, Sideswipe. Prime's orders," Ironhide said a darkly satisfied tone even as he helped Jolt up. "Now go download the combat specifications for every Autobot on Earth or due to arrive in the next year. I want you to know your teammates strengths and weaknesses better than you know your own blades by the time you report to me at second watch tomorrow. Jolt, you do the same."

"Still don't see the point," Sideswipe growled. "Just turn me loose in a fight and stand back!"

Jolt looked a little peeved at that dismissive tone, but Ironhide simply grunted at the response, shaking his head and saying, "You are too valuable to throw away like that. As much as you might wish to be, you aren't cannon fodder, and you _will_ learn to fight on a unit again."

* * *

Sideswipe onlined from recharge and, as had become automatic for him, scanned for the location of his charge. Patronus was not in the large hanger. He extended his sensors and pinged for his location, receiving an immediate response that the black mech was downloading new modules in Ratchet's smaller hanger. Curious as to what the mechling had chosen to focus on next, the silver mech made his way toward the CMO's domain.

Entering with a brief nod to Ratchet, who was making an adjustment to Dino's pede-wheel, he made his way to Patronus who was connected to a terminal with his optics offline.

::How long has he been here?:: he commed Ratchet.

::Since shortly after your argument yesterday,:: Ratchet replied. ::Best stop him before he slags up his processors. You should know, he has requested weapons upgrades. Ranged and close combat.::

Sideswipe's optics glinted in anticipation of what would come from that. ::I've got this.:: He strode over, laying a hand on Patronus's shoulder plating, light and with enough noise of his motion to not be 'a sneaky stealth ninja' as Sam had accused him of being once.

"Patronus," Sideswipe called firmly.

The black mech did not startle; his guardian protocols demanding that he keep his sensors online and extended, watching over Ratchet even as his processors downloaded thousands of data modules. "Sideswipe," he said, quietly and respectfully, standing and transmitting the traditional greeting glyph of a mechling to mentor, along with the modifiers indicating an eagerness to train.

Sideswipe toyed with the idea of practical application of some other portion of coding. After all, mechlings shouldn't have their wishes indulged all the time, and there were plenty of previously downloaded modules Patronus had not yet integrated.

However, Sideswipe wanted this as badly as Patronus now did. "Close combat?" he invited, letting his frame show his eagerness for the fight.

The response was a loud rev of the mechling's engine, along with a spat out order from Ratchet to move it outside and to be mindful of the humans.

They made their way to the same overgrown parking lot Patronus had abused in his anger the previous day. The scrap metal and rebar could make the lesson more interesting, for sure.

Sideswipe reminded himself that he was the teacher this time, reinforcing his memory code not to push too hard when they started. This was not Ironhide, and there was no sense in treating him like the weapons specialist at all.

He flicked out fist in a human style challenge, wanting to see which way they would go from here.

Patronus's faceplates lit up with the first honest grin the Sideswipe could recall the serious mechling giving, and then he launched at his mentor with the intent to catch him low on his frame, knocking off his center of gravity with his far larger mass.

Sideswipe danced out of the way of the attack, displaying the grace he'd once been known for, and was learning once more. He had been trained, by the previous bearer of the mechling's spark, to use finesse instead of brutality, and right now he needed every one of those lessons on tap to handle the raw ability of a mechling fresh from combat module downloads...

...Modules that clearly were integrating into the black mech's kinetic memory flawlessly as his larger frame (though not as bulky as Ironhide's due to the lack of heavy armor) moved with quick grace as he pressed another attack, hurling a large construction beam which clipped Sideswipe's shoulder joint with a crash. Peripherally, Sideswipe was aware that others, both mech and human, were approaching to watch.

Sideswipe grunted at the impact and reinforced his protocols to not go at this as hard as he wanted. Unfortunately, the audience gathering was making that difficult, as he felt his twin stir within. Sunstreaker had always enjoyed being the center of attention, whether for his beauty or his skill.

With a pivot on his pede, Sideswipe lunged low, and let his free leg kick out, connecting with a more vulnerable joint of Patronus's knee, trying to knock him off balance.

The black mech stumbled, but recovered with a low rumble that was a familiar, much missed sound. He again pressed his bulk and greater mass to the advantage. Sideswipe blocked the first hit, but the second connected with the sensor array on his helm, and then the mechling grabbed him, attempting to take him down as he was briefly off balance.

That was too much for either twin, as Sunstreaker pushed a counter into Sideswipe's motor relays, twisting in Patronus's grip before he followed through with a yank and kick in one solid motion. Sideswipe let it go through, forgetting to check the strength, but Patronus's armor absorbed most of it.

The mechling staggered back, grunting with pain, perhaps the first true physical pain he had experienced. Recovering, he launched himself again, barreling into Sideswipe with all the subtlety of a freight train, raining blows with systemic precision upon the sensitive motor relay cabling on the silver mech's arm as they fell toward the ground. The fragger had clearly downloaded his specs and found one of his weaknesses.

It went through Sideswipe's processor that possibly Patronus had remembered, but he struck that thought aside, snarling and fighting back with a few dirty tricks of his own. His helm smashed hard into Patronus's mouth as they rebounded on the ground, jarring them both.

The mechling roared in pain, and a distant part of Sideswipe's processors knew that Ratchet's wrath was now a guarantee, but the mechling's aggressive blows would bear no holding back. As they rolled on the ground, he put his own knowledge of Patronus's frame to good use and managed to grab a neural line under the mechling's right arm even as Patronus pulled it up for another punch, twisting the line hard and disabling the entire limb.

"You need to block as well as hit!" Sideswipe growled, pressing his advantage as he rolled on top, finally unsheathing a blade in a swift motion to press against the larger mech's chest. "Yield," he commanded.

The deep, guttural growl of defiance was so much a part of Sideswipe battling Ironhide, yet this time, it was not Sides letting it escape. The onlookers were somewhat uneasy, until all tension seeped away from Patronus's frame, and the mechling gave a wide grin. Sideswipe did not crow in exultation at his win, but he did nod briefly in satisfaction as he stood and Patronus likewise got to his feet.

"You did well, for your initial integration of those modules, but you are unbalanced toward aggression and it leaves you open. I want you to download these defensive ones as soon as Ratchet gives your processors clearance for more," Sideswipe instructed, sending the module numbers to his charge in a quick databurst. Ignoring the curious onlookers other than a quick nod at Prime, he made his way with Patronus back toward Ratchet's hanger for repairs and the mechling's first lesson in the medic's post-sparring temper. No modules could prepare a mech for what only experience could teach when it came to the gentle attentions of a fragged off CMO.


	4. Upgrades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patronus is determined to gain the upgrades and skills he needs to resume the function that calls to his spark.

**Title** : Patronus 4 – Upgrades  
 **Fandom** : Bayverse, DotM  
 **Authors** : femme4jack & Merfilly  
 **Characters** : Ironhide (Patronus), Dino, Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Will Lennox, Sarah Lennox, Annabelle Lennox  
 **Rating** : PG  
 **WARNINGS** : DotM Spoilers  
 **Summary** : Patronus is determined to gain the upgrades and skills he needs to resume the function that calls to his spark.  


 **Notes** : Annabelle’s plush Ironhide toy looks like [ this lovely one](http://pics.livejournal.com/mmouse15/pic/0004453q/g7) created by plushbot27 and loved and snuggled regularly by mmouse15 (isn't she lucky?).

 _From Femme: It has come up that there are strong similarities between Merfilly and my take on Ironhide’s guardian protocols (being a spark-deep function that creates bonds with his charges) and April Raven's[A Universal Concept](http://aprilraven.livejournal.com/tag/a%20universal%20concept), a wonderful story that everyone should read - it is one of the best stories out there that deals with Ironhide as guardian :)_

 _I want to make it clear that the similarity of ideas is synergistic, not the deliberate lifting of an idea out of someone else's story. The idea of functions (guardian functions as well as others) being spark-deep, as well as the formation of bonds between mechs and their charges, has been a solid part of my head canon and a staple of my writing and co-writing through the massive amounts of text that make up the Dathana de Gray AU collaboration, as well as my G1 AU Darkfic "For the Beauty of the Earth" and its follow-up, "Guardian" which are about Hound's environmental guardianship and spark-deep protocols that go wrong._

 _I was not aware that April Raven originated the idea of guardianship as a spark-deep trait, or guardian bonds. It was never my intention to use an idea of another author without permission. I’ve conversed with April, and she has no issue with our use of the concepts. April is most definitely one of the authors who has inspired me regarding Ironhide’s character, and is an all around genuine and giving spirit. I have eagerly awaited her updates, reviewed, and rec-ed her story on many occasions. Failing to give credit to her in this story was not malicious. It was simply that the ideas are firmly a part of my own head canon, have been so for a long time through many stories I've written, and I believed them to be fanon ideas developed by many authors. Please read April Raven's wonderful story, and do not be under any misconception that ideas about guardianship or guardian bonds belong to Merfilly or myself._

* * *

Patronus 4 - Upgrades

  


* * *

Ferrari 458 Italias normally did not have a back seat, at least that is what Annabelle's mommy had told her. But special ones that were actually giant people could when they wanted to, so Annabelle's strawberry pink camo patterned booster seat fit just fine in the back seat of the speedy red car named Dino.

She liked him, mostly. He talked funny (though he didn't talk to her much), he could skate, and she wondered if he could figure skate on ice like the people in the Olympics. In her imagination she pretended that he was her partner as she was thrown into the air wearing a flowing, sparkly red costume that matched his paint. Daddy had said he'd be better at hockey. Which was okay. Annabelle liked hockey, too, and played on the mini-mite hockey team at ice rink back home.

But right now she didn't want to think about skating or the fancy red car who was taking them to a cabin where she would play all weekend. She had her arms crossed and was staring out the window at the road that was still broken in a bunch of places (not that it stopped Dino).

She sighed, really loud, so everyone would hear how mad she was. Dino was nice, but he wasn't the big black truck that she had seen from a distance. The one Mommy and Daddy said Ironhide's sparkler was now in. She wanted to meet him so much, and Daddy had said he was coming with them on the trip. She didn't understand why she and Mommy hadn't talked with him yet, and no one could give her a good answer except that Optimus had wanted Ironhide to have some time to get used to his new body first. She and Mommy also didn't have permission from Daddy's mean boss to talk with the robots unless one was supposed to protect them. Annabelle thought that was stupid and said so, because Optimus and the President were Daddy's bosses, not the mean lady who thought she was Optimus's boss.

"Annabelle," Will said, after the second dramatic sigh. "This is not how we try to act when we want to go have fun, is it?"

"It's just not fair," she said with all of the excessive drama a six-year-old was capable of. "Why couldn't Iron...Patronus come? You promised," she huffed, recrossing her arms and lightly kicking the seat in front of her. Not too hard, but hard enough to let Dino know that she was _not happy_.

Dino sent a light rumble through the seat, trying to soothe her. He did not mind the youngling, but in some ways it was rather unnerving, as well as depressing, to deal with the young of such a fragile species.

"I didn't know know he wasn't field-ready, angel," Will told his daughter. "Maybe next time, he will be ready."

"But he's been alive again for soooooo long and I never get to talk to him!" she whined. "It's gonna be a hundred-thousand-thousand years before I get to talk to him. You get to see him every day and I never ever ever do, and I miss him!"

Annabelle's lip had started to quiver and a full on tantrum seemed just around the corner. They were rare for her, but when they came, they were something that quelled even the most seasoned soldier.

"Annabelle," Dino's voice resounded softly in the interior. "From all I have seen of Patronus and his actions toward your father, he misses you as well," the Autobot said. "Can you be big and brave, though, and let him have just a little more time to be ready to take care of you?"

Will found himself hoping the Autobot's words made an impact.

They all listened as the little girl took a big, shuddering breath, and Dino noted that the youngling's vitals had slowed a bit at his words.

"How can he miss me if he doesn't even know me anymore?" she asked quietly, furiously wiping away her tears and trying to be a big girl like Dino asked, hugging her well-worn plushie tight.

"Honey, he might not have Ironhide's memories," Will began, trying to find the right words. "But his...spark still knows us. He just has to have time to get to know us again," he promised her.

"Two months seems like a very long time to us, boo," Sarah added, "but for Patronus, it is hardly any time, and he has been spending most of it learning everything he needs to know to be an Autobot. It won't be long now."

Annabelle barely nodded, hugged her toy, and leaned her forehead against the window as they streaked by Chicago's western suburbs.

Sarah could only hope that Will and Dino were right, and that meeting Patronus would not be like losing Ironhide all over again for the little girl. If he were indifferent towards her...no, she did not even want to think about that. Patronus had certainly been anything but indifferent toward Will, as confusing as it was for her spouse. She reached over and squeezed his thigh in affection and empathy. This wasn't an easy conversation for him.

* * *

  
 _Two months earlier_

Sarah had spent the evening at the refugee hotel complex where she had started a Girl Scout Daisy troupe for girls her daughter's age. The six-year-old had fallen asleep in the car on the short drive back, so Sarah carried her into the rather run down two-bedroom apartment Will had been assigned at the temporary NEST base at Midway. Will was sitting on the couch, an empty beer bottle in one hand, Annabelle's homemade Ironhide plushie in the other, absently tapping it on his leg as he stared at a blank TV screen. As she pushed the door closed with her foot, Sarah watched him shake himself out of his stupor. He gave her a weak smile, stood up and put down the empty bottle, taking Annabelle to put her to bed.

Sarah grabbed two more beers from the fridge and waited for Will on the couch, listening over the clatter of the window air conditioning unit as he went through the normal routine of saying prayers with their daughter even though she was already asleep. The blond woman smiled softly and noticed that he even included several "Primus and God bless" wishes for all of the Autobots, as had become the ritual ever since Annabelle had learned the name of the Cybertronian deity. She listened when he got to what was normally the end, but instead of "Primus and God bless Ironhide," the name Will said was "Patronus".

She briefly closed her eyes. Will didn't talk shop much, but it was a bit hard to avoid with them living right by the temporary NEST base. She suddenly knew all too well why her husband had looked like someone who had seen a ghost. He'd been expecting the new mech with Ironhide's spark to make an appearance ever since he’d been informed of his reformat, but that didn't mean it was easy.

When Will came back, he sat next to his wife, grabbing his beer and taking a long drink.

"Hard day?" she asked him, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah...hard...strange," he said somewhat flatly.

"Wanna talk about?" she asked, taking a swig of beer and relaxing into him.

Will shifted so his back was on the armrest, pulling Sarah to lean her back against his chest, both of their feet up on the ratty couch that reminded them of the one in their first apartment.

"Met him today. We were working at a school...doing recovery. It wasn't pretty. I lost my breakfast after I pulled out a girl Belle's age. He followed me, gave me some water. It was...it is so confusing, babe. Totally different voice, but I feel like I can _hear_ him. It's not his body, yet I can _feel_ him there, and it's all probably just my wishful thinking. Guess he requested to work with my team. I could feel him watching me, like he was trying to figure it out, whatever _it_ is. Maybe he just doesn't understand why the hell Ironhide was connected with us in the first place. Or maybe he knows about it through the files Ratchet gave him, and just is curious."

"Or maybe his spark remembers, and that guardian bond thing Dino was telling us about is still there," she quietly suggested.

"If I hope for that...and it's not true? And there is really nothing there of Hide…"

"It's his soul, Will. Of course there is something there of Hide, the truest part of him. You aren't imagining things when you say you feel him."

Will shook his head, then leaned down so his forehead rested on the top of her head, drinking in the comforting smell of her hair. "I just don't know,” he murmured. "It makes me think, what really makes us who we are? We say nature and nurture, but Hide lost both. Lost his body, programming, all of his memories. If you came back with totally new genetics and no memories, would there really be anything left of you?"

"You're over thinking this, Will. That's not like you. You live in the present, take things as they come more than anyone I know." Sarah rubbed her hands along his legs soothingly.

"I just don't want to mess up," Will fretted. "I feel like he wants something from me, but what if I just start treating him like Hide? Pretending that's who he is. That's exactly the crap Ratchet and Optimus lectured everyone on and on about."

"Maybe he _wants_ you to help him remember," Sarah suggested.

"Wishful thinking," Will said, quietly.

"Or hopeful. Nothing wrong with hope, babe."

Will wanted to hope, but he was a solider, veteran of some of the roughest action in the modern wars, and that made hoping for the better a difficult task indeed.

* * *

Patronus reviewed the data once more, as he had done repeatedly since initially coming online. The historical data of the reign of Sentinel Prime and his Lord High Protector showed him why Cybertron had been ripe for the war that came with Megatron's revolt. The culture had stagnated to a point that the individuals were lost in a sea of class expectations, indoctrinated from the moment a new spark was framed.

As Ironhide, he had performed tasks that had been, at the time, lawfully ordered peace-keeping exercises. In retrospect, he doubted the motivations and needs of Sentinel Prime in ordering them. He found himself questioning whether the war could have been averted by actually listening to those who engaged in the sporadic protests. When the leadership had changed, and the choice had come for Ironhide, Patronus hoped that it had been less about maintaining the old ways, and more about the fact Megatron had simply been wrong.

Coming online in the aftermath of a battle that had destroyed so many lives, regardless of whether they had been human, Autobot, or Decepticon, had left Patronus reluctant to embrace the ways of war. He had concentrated on skills that he felt would be useful to the rebuilding effort, and learned new ones that had not been a part of Ironhide's repertoire. He had downloaded and considered such things as philosophy and diplomacy. It was his hope, perhaps influenced by the utter weariness in his ghostly cohort bonds, that such skills would be of far more use to his Prime now.

Then he found the pull of his spark to the human family of Will Lennox. There was only one way to honor that pull, now that it had been bluntly put to his attention that he would not be allowed to take care of them as he ought without full warrior capabilities.

The review of the events still left him torn by regrets and fears for the future of both his own and the human species. However, he had no choice, not when he weighed his spark's wishes.

Patronus rose from the monitors, and steadfastly walked to Ratchet's work area. If the medic was busy, he would wait there. He would wait however long it took for Ratchet to give him back the tools he needed to watch over his charges.

He did not have to wait long. As soon as he entered Ratchet's area, he had the CMO's full attention.

"Ready for more downloads? Let me just take a look at how last set is integrating," Ratchet extended a cable, signaling toward an empty examination berth.

Patronus got up on the berth and laid back, settling. "Actually, Ratchet, I want to go further than just downloads," he said in a quiet voice, one that indicated resolution, if not enthusiasm.

Ratchet gave Patronus an intent look, and then smiled and asked, "Have you come to a preliminary decision regarding your function, then? Or are you wanting your interfacing upgrades?" It was typical for a mechling at Patronus's stage of development to ask for a means to more closely connect with his cohort. He plugged into Patronus's thoracic port, and the mechling brought down his firewalls without being asked, well accustomed to the routine of Ratchet’s calmly professional perusal of his processors.

Behind his own firewalls, Ratchet was impressed with the efficient manner in which the mechling was integrating the sheer volume of data into his kinetic memory and emotive subroutines. A distinct personality was developing that felt at once familiar and refreshingly young. Patronus shared Ironhide's protective and fiercely tender nature, but the underlying aggressive violence of the military-built Ironhide seemed to have been replaced by a desire to understand, to prevent conflict before it escalated. Patronus's integration of the diplomacy modules would have made Ironhide snort and cycle his optics in disdain, but to Ratchet, it was a sign of hope that a young mech would respond in such a way to the destruction he had onlined into.

"Interface protocols are intriguing, but I do not have the resources to upgrade two major energy consumption systems at the present time, Ratchet. I seek my weaponry and my armor, so that I may resume my correct functions." Patronus kept his voice level and polite, but the force of his desire to be rejoined to the Lennox family was stronger than any other drive Ratchet had sensed in the mechling.

Ratchet's spark gave a bittersweet pulse. On the one hand, it was yet another sign of just how much of Ironhide continued to live on in Patronus. On the other...a mech dedicated to peacekeeping and diplomacy, with the power of Ironhide's spark…the notion had filled Ratchet's own spark with a sense of hope for their kind he had no longer thought he was capable of feeling. It had almost been like seeing Patronus as Ironhide's own sparkling, having so much of his creator within him, yet opting for a different path.

"There have been many kinds of guardians among our kind, Patronus,” Ratchet said cautiously. "Are you certain you wish to have weaponry integrated with your frame? Sideswipe's view of the matter is mono-optical due to his own function coding and experiences."

"I was given to understand that I will not be allowed solitary access to my charges without weaponry and armor. This makes logical sense, given the probability of unknown Cybertronians who refuse to accept Megatron's peace, or the potential betrayal by Megatron when he has recouped his strength enough to resist any terms that Prime tries to impose upon that peace." Patronus was set on his path, now that he had chosen it.

"Whether integrated weaponry is required will ultimately be Prime's decision," Ratchet explained neutrally, “but you are correct about the logic. Is this truly what you wish? Your integration of the historical, philosophical and diplomatic modules has been above par."

Patronus let a grimace crease his faceplates, and then he shook his helm. "My duty is to Prime, but my bonds are to the Lennox family unit. I must be capable of fulfilling both sets of operating parameters. Therefore, this is what needs to be done."

Ratchet nodded, satisfied that Patronus was not being unduly influenced by his warrior-mentor. "Shall we go through the possible modifications, or have you already chosen your upgrades?" he asked, unable to resist simultaneously comming Optimus with the news.

Optimus Prime reviewed the data burst sent with the comm ping, and sat back from the data pads he had been reviewing. Part of him wanted to go make certain this was Patronus's idea, yet Ratchet had established that to his own satisfaction. He really had no reason to go to medical, and yet... ::Ratchet, would you require assistance?:: he asked.

Ratchet carefully schooled his features to suppress his humor at Prime's carefully worded request. ::I see no reason why this would be an inappropriate time for you to discuss with him the guardian function he has chosen, Optimus. Just because Sideswipe is his mentor does not mean that we all will not take on aspects of that function as well.::

Optimus Prime considered that invitation carefully, then pushed up to head down to Ratchet's repair bay. ::En route, Ratchet.:: Through long-standing habit, Prime did not point out Ratchet was right; after all, that was a common enough occurrence.

Patronus, meanwhile, had projected the visual design of the weapons he had decided on, while feeding the specifications to Ratchet via a databurst.

"These will take me a few days to fabricate and test to be certain they integrate properly with your frame and power levels. Would you care to work on their fabrication with me?" Ratchet asked in as non-committal tone as he could muster. There was no reason Patronus needed to build the basic, yet elegant ranged and hand-to-hand systems he had requested, but the medic's curiosity about the mechling's skills were getting the better of him.

Patronus thought about that. "It would be useful, so I can more effectively repair the systems in case of malfunction," he reasoned. "But my assistance is still needed with the clean-up procedures. Would it be possible to only work on these systems when the humans have no need of me?"

"Of course," Ratchet replied quickly. "Everything is secondary to that mission, including your own upgrades, though having your armed will enable you to be the solo mech with a human team, so I see no reason not to make at least a basic weapons and armor upgrade a priority. By the way, Optimus is coming, in case you have questions for him regarding your chosen function."

Patronus did not need the warning. His spark could _feel_ the closing proximity to his Prime. Still uncertain what to do with the nebulous bonds that he had no memory of forming, but were, nonetheless, integral parts of his spark, he tentatively reached out across the connection, welcoming with curiosity the coming conversation. He had spent far less time with Optimus since onlining than he would have desired.

Optimus paused as the connection solidified past the ghostly presence it had been. He had lived so much of his existence with the shadows of his bonded links, thanks in most part to the betrayal of one of the very earliest he had ever formed, that to have one returned to healthy, full existence was almost painful. Even if it was now flavored with new experience, and with shades of uncertainty common in an early bonding, it was known to his spark, and had to be answered. Carefully, knowing he had to be certain not to unduly influence his youngest charge, no matter the age of that spark within his chestplates, Optimus returned the connection.

Once he had accepted the reach of the mechling, Optimus pushed himself to resume his walk, and entered moments after. "Greetings Patronus; Ratchet."

"Optimus," "Prime," Ratchet and Patronus simultaneously responded, the latter holding himself perceptibly straighter, with a more formal posture even as he made room for Optimus to view the holographic rendering of the weapons upgrades the black mech's previous incarnation had designed for frontline mechs of Patronus's frame-size.

"Good choices," Optimus said in response. "Unsurprising, given how well you have been studying all of the information at your disposal, Patronus." He nodded as Ratchet moved back a little, giving Optimus the center court, in human terms. "You are certain of the choices you have made, as well, Ratchet tells me. What questions has the data terminal been unable to answer?"

Patronus swelled with pride at the words as well we the obvious approval he felt through the cohort bond. "I have attempted to do as you both wished me to and have thoroughly investigated my options. While I believe our future may be best served by engineers and diplomats, I cannot deny that guardianship is the function which my spark answers to. Will having these upgrades and combat training allow me to resume my function with the Lennox family and within this cohort?" he asked, only noticing that he had used the word resume rather than commence when he felt the emotive reaction echo through his newly open connection with his Prime before it was quickly suppressed.

Ratchet had noted the words too, but was less surprised than Optimus Prime, given all his observations of Patronus to date. His unobtrusive wall of support toward Optimus within the cohort was immediate, and welcomed.

"They will meet the necessary logistical requirements, yes," Optimus Prime told the mechling. "However, there is the psychological aspect of being in such a protective role, Patronus. It is one thing to feel the need to protect those less capable than ourselves, and another to have the ability to do as needed against the various threats, with the appropriate measure of violence." That he kept his vocalizer even and firm was testimony to vorns of having inured himself against the shock of how Megatron's guardian protocols had been so subverted.

"How will you go about ascertaining my psychological competence for the function, and what must I do to develop the needed personality profile?" Patronus asked resolutely, his field awash with determination to prove himself and please his superiors. "Is the concern that I would be too violent, or not violent enough for appropriate measures?" he added with just a hint of humor.

Prime considered those words quite carefully, taking his time to answer. On the one hand, the answer depended on knowing that mechlings were all prone to a hysterical reaction either during or after their first combat. On the other, this was Ironhide's spark at work within that new frame, guided by a new processor and set of experiences.

"I believe, Patronus, your will is strong enough to meet either challenge you face," he finally did answer, a quiet swell of trust in the mechling washing out to reassure his youngest cohort member.

"I will endeavor not to disappoint you," Patronus replied softly, a static-tinged tone revealing just how much the feeling of being trusted meant to him. "I do not wish my inexperience to put my charges at risk, as anxious as I am to resume this function and reestablish my bond with them. I trust your judgment, regardless of how much my spark demands that I return to my charges."

Patronus unconsciously leaned into Optimus’s field as well as the connection that remained open between their sparks, hungering for the trust and pleased approval so apparent there, as well as for something deeper that his integrated protocols did not yet have the language for.

Prime shifted, and one hand came up, gripping a shoulder that was not quite where he expected it to be, before squeezing in reassurance. His fields rippled with the same emotions, a mix of relief that he wanted to hide, and firm support for the mech in front of him. "You will not fail me, Patronus, so long as you live up to who you wish to be. All else is training and experience."

Ratchet, wisely, kept his mouth firmly shut, and did not intrude on the quiet affirmation happening between their young charge and his Prime.

* * *

A lone, tall black form was waiting in the parking lot by the Lennox's temporary apartment as Dino drove up late Sunday evening. Will brushed his dozing wife's shoulder and gestured toward the still figure whose blue optics shone brightly in the night. Annabelle, who normally would have slept through being transferred from her booster seat to bed inexplicably awoke as Dino came to a stop some thirty feet from the waiting mech.

Before her parents could say a word to stop her, she had unbuckled and clambered over Will through Dino's passenger door which the mech had already opened. Even as her parents scrambled out (Will grabbing their bags and his daugther's booster seat so Dino could transform without obstacle), Annabelle was exuberantly yelling "Ironhide!" at the top of her lungs, sprinting toward the black mech, who knelt down to be closer to her level.

When Will moved as though to intervene, Dino silently gestured at both parents to remain. Will noticed out of the corner of his eye that several mechs had gathered at the entrances of the hangers that served as their temporary base several hundred yards away, including Optimus, Ratchet, and Sideswipe.

"I'm sorry I called you the wrong name, Patronus," Annabelle's voice carried through the night air clearly.

"You may call me by whichever designation you are comfortable with, youngling," Patronus responded kindly. "Patronus is my temporary designation until I choose to make it permanent or choose another."

"Patronus is nice. Kind of like a secret code name, and Mrs. Epps told me about the wizard spell. I like wizards and Mommy started reading Harry Potter to me at the cabin last night. Do you like my toy? Will you pick me up?" she responded in a flood of words, holding up the plushie version of his former frame.

Will and Sarah held their breath as Patronus reached out his hand, cupping it carefully around their daughter when she had scrambled on. He stood slowly in a fluid motion, holding her and the plushie closer to his optics.

"The resemblance to my former frame is quite uncanny," he pronounced after a brief inspection. "Your mother put great care into making it." He moved her to chest level and began walking toward the waiting human couple and mech.

"Your voice is different, and you look a little different. Less old and denty," Annabelle continued thoughtfully, reaching out to touch the smooth obsidian chestplates. "But I can tell it's still your sparkler. You feel the same."

"I am glad I meet your approval, Annabelle. I am certain we will be good friends, and I will be seeing more of you and your cohort once I receive a few more upgrades to keep you safe," Patronus replied as he knelt in front of her parents and opened his hand at ground level.

She didn't climb off immediately, but instead circled her arms around his thumb, hugging him as tight as she could, the pressure barely registering to his sensors, but felt keenly nonetheless. "Of course we'll be good friends, silly. We already are. And I understand. You need some cannons. You look sort of dorky without them." She hugged him again and then scrambled off his hand, skipping toward Will who scooped her up.

"Thank you, Patronus," Sarah said, blinking back tears.

"Thank you, Sarah Lennox, for your patience as I obtain the upgrades and skills needed to resume my guardianship function. And thank you, Dino, for taking my place with them for their trip and keeping them safe."

"Of course," Dino said, reaching up to grasp the taller mech's shoulder. "It was no bother. I enjoyed driving on open roads again."

The two mechs turned to walk toward the main hanger, leaving two rather stunned human parents and one completely nonplussed child in their wake.

::All of this effort to treat him as a brand new person,:: Ratchet commed Optimus as they watched Patronus and Dino approach, ::and a human youngling shows us in less than a klik just how little it matters to him.::


	5. Beyond the Basics

